The Problem with Being at the Bottom of the Ocean

{I sat down and wrote this story the other day}


I’ve been having this dream where I give birth in the ocean. With each wave’s rise and fall another water child dives beneath. I follow them down to the ocean’s bottom, and there they sit among the oysters. I wonder why they want to be here and who told them to come. I’d like to listen to their conversations but I can’t understand their language. I feel like a terrible mother– not understanding my own children. All the while, the problem with being at the bottom of the ocean is that you cannot tell the difference between salt water and tears. Somehow the children know this and they swim swiftly around me till my tears turn the shape and color of pearls and it’s clear that I am crying. “Why are you crying?” One asks. “Because we are down here with the oysters,” I say. “The oysters tell us where to go. They tell us who to see.” My youngest says. “I’d like to leave. There is too much water down here,” I say. With reluctance, they swim back into my womb and I carry them back to dry land.